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Her beautiful face flashed into Liam's mind, his heart melting with love. 

Disgust instantly washed over him with another thought: Lust had brought her here, not love. 

And maybe his impulsive impatience too. 

But she was the greatest treasure in all of his expensive, luxurious estate, even more so than Titian's Venus Anadyomene, or his black Ferarri 458 that waited patiently on his stone driveway. 

His reflection in the ornate mirror caught his eye.

So this is what the ladies called charming, as if his messy brown/black hair and calm brown eyes were enough to send the female sex swooning. He snickered, remembering how she had arrived here.

Oh yeah. Defiantly charming. 

Liam peered around the decorative arch, seeing her sleeping peacefully, her lovely features relaxed as her mind drifted through friendly dreams. 

Only moments ago had she seen Liam, waking up, eyes fluttering nervously, revealing mesmerising hazel irises, the black pupil surrounded by a ring of gold - Perfect, Liam remembered. 

Just perfect. 

But only after a few flushed sentences, had she drifted back down into her coma-like state, not surprising since she had been drugged and forcebly moved here. 

My private doctor/surgeon might need to come in, he thought with concern, sitting down on the sensual king mattress, his thumb whispering over her cheek. 

Though, with the way Liam planned to lavish her, he may just need to come in anyway. 

Someone knocked quietly on the door; Liam flicked his head around, smiling broadly his oldish butler, the few streaks of grey a striking contrast to his pitch-black hair, as much as the stylish, tailored black suit that he wore against his fair complexion. George nodded in acknowledgement, waiting on the threshold. 

Liam reluctantly rose, joining George as he started down the mahogany stairs, curling around the walls of the east wing. 

"I see she sleeps well," the older man noted, his accent still providing evidence of George's English ancestory. 

"Yes," Liam agreed, but the whole sentence was for him only; perhaps he was being too protective to share even his thoughts of her. "Have you found her name?"

George looked up at him, stopping at the top of the 'Grand Staircase' as Liam had christened it, marble and gold descending - he had a fascination with marine disasters. 

"Yes, Sir. But would you perhaps prefer asking it yourself?"

Now that George had pointed it out, Liam had the sudden desire to do that - hold her delicate, perfect face in his hands and ask for her name in a gentle whisper, so that he could forever hold it like a prayer of salvation. 

Liam nodded, even though his mind was wandering, entangled with yearning.

How hard he had fallen for this girl. 

His leather, polished shoes continued down the stairs, George lingering behind. "Insure she is served breakfast; give her what you think is appropriate. Inform me of any changes."

The brisque instructions were a dismissal, Liam swiflty heading to his office. He had to think...and work. 

And as it seemed, work hard if he was to keep this girl.

~

A moan of relief was released, as Liam finally emailed his analysis of the report back to his secretary.

Damn. Sometimes Liam wondered if he should just resign as CEO and retire to the beauty of his estate...and the beauty of the lady upstairs. 

The intercom beeped, Liam pressing a red button.

"Yes?"

"Sir," the radioed voice of George sounded in his office, "Miss Astly is here to see you."

A sigh. Of course his cousin would turn up now, in all her regal satin, red and peep-toe Louboutins.

"Thank you, George."

Liam stood, his other servant, Jenni, showing her in. 

Even at thirty-two, Bridgit Astly still managed to look effortlessly young and beautiful. 

With the subtle touches of makeup, with the excepetion of her trademark plum-red lipstick, her blonde hair in a French twist, wearing a matching magenta, button cartigan and a white, tight dress, the seam at her middle thigh, completed in heels, which all but accentuated her shaven, tanned legs, Bridgit was a goddess. 

Liam embraced her, but his cousin was first to pull away. She spun around in wonder, eyes taking in everything of the open lobby. "Ah! Love this place."

Liam laughed, gesturing to her. "Thank you. And for some reason, you decided to flatter me with your attire today."

Bridgit glanced down, shrugging slightly. "Oh this? Nothing particular."

He grinned. Leave it to his fashionista, celebrated cousin to make that legend. Liam placed his hand on her lower back, gently guiding her aimlessly through his impressing house - or more small mansion - but with Bridgit, as it was in her nature, she always managed to nourish even the most boring of subjects. 

"How'd you away from 'razzi?"

"The ususal. My security chief and I have a running joke: we call the technique eloping."

Restrain the laugh. Restrain the laugh. 

The mantra had to be repeated over, lest injure his relationship with Bridgit; but the idea of how the paparazzi would handle such a name was outrageously hilarous. At minimum, the tabliods would be filled with disappointed rants about how foxy Miss Astly was to be 'married'.

A quiet snicker escaped him before he could catch it. 

"Hey! That's not funny."

The response wasn't related to his thoughts. Liam blinked uncertainly. "Sorry?"

A roll of her aqua eyes. "I said that I had to give away the dog that the producers 'rent' to me for my recent film. He was such a cutie." The latter was in a tone of yearning regret.

"Shame," Liam sighed, but all too soon, his thoughts drifted upwards...her peaceful face...the quiet puff of air as she exhaled, the inhales and exhales alternating between her nose and mouth; a long inhale through the nose and a shorter exhale through her lips.

The very thought of her lips forced lust to roar through him like racehorses out of the starting gate, bulleting through him. Oh, how desperately he wanted to kiss her...powerfully and without mercy, until her skin heated from his fervour. 

And he would be doing it now, had he not believed in the human right of consent. He would kiss her when she was ready and willing, and no earlier.  

 Suddenly, George charged in front of him, panting hard from exhausion. "Sir..." More gasps as he caught his breath. He looked into Liam's eyes with concern - for whom was an amusing question. 

"She's gone."

PS: Liam is on the side. :)

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